


Draecember 2017 Day Eight: Facing a Fear

by Zillidan



Series: Draecember 2017 [8]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Combat, Eastern Plaguelands, Graphic War, draecember2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillidan/pseuds/Zillidan
Summary: Newly defected, Jen heads off to the Eastern Plaguelands to help the denizens there deal with the newly returned Scourge threat. However, Jen quickly realizes that without the Legion's power, death is a real possibility, once she may not be prepared for.





	Draecember 2017 Day Eight: Facing a Fear

The Eastern Plaguelands had always been a land filled with strife ever since the Scourge took over and corrupted the area. It had been relatively peaceful as of late as big changes had just occurred in the world. People went to Outland for the first time in years, the Sunwell had been reignited for the Blood Elves, everything was in a relative calm for now. Of course, the scourge began to make its move soon after. The plague was ending up in cities, turning people into mass armies of undead. Necropolis were appearing outside capital cities and in the Plaguelands itself, Acherus had shown up. Rumored to be much more powerful than Naxxramas, they seemed intent on destroying the Argent Dawn presence here at Light's Hope Chapel once and for all, but first, they would require recruits. Having perfected a new technique, the Lich King was collecting the bodies of soldiers to turn them into Death Knights and this righteous group of people was directly in their way. Simultaneously being able to remove their troops from battle and it them to their own ranks was a boon the Scourge would not let go to waste.

On advice from Velen, Jen had arrived in the Plaguelands just in time for the heat of the fighting. He was kind enough to give her a full suit of Draenei armor from the armory, the same one the city guards wear. This at least hid her body and face from sight, but her size was still a bit of a giveaway. Still, word had not spread to this part of the world that a Man’ari had defected from the Legion and she was hoping to keep it this way. Tagging along with a few people from Stormwind, they made the long trek up to the Plaguelands. It was probably the most awkward time Jen had. Here she was a few months ago part of the Burning Legion, destroying worlds with no real friends or family left and totally abused and used for millennia to all of the sudden walking through a completely alien world with a group of people trying to get to know her and were generally friendly. Of course, they didn’t know anything about her past and she didn't know anything about the Draenei past, so she ended up having to make all of it up. Still, she genuinely got along with these people and was happy to finally get into some real combat for the good of the world.

Fighting with the Legion, Jen had grown accustomed to the style of swarming a planet without any real need for great skill in combat. The Legion was content with throwing their minions at a problem and letting them regenerate later, as was the nature of demons. For Jen, she had spent a lifetime brazenly running out ahead without any care in the world, each wound added merely a hindrance as she pushed as far into the battle as possible. Dying on a job well done was often rewarded when demons returned and there was little worry about the long-term effects of death. Jen grinned as her and her new friends arrived on the battlefield. She loved fighting with friends, competing for as many kills as possible, the slaughtering was fun. Her new friends here, however, did not have that same look on their faces. The normally jovial group had turned stoic and almost sad right away as the approached where the heaviest fighting was. Jen glanced around, troops crying out in agony as they received treatments for wounds, amputations. Even the light healing wounds made the toughest person their gnash their teeth. A feeling of dread washed over her as she looked ahead. The combat ahead was fierce and the group charged in as she watched. Ghouls were ripping people to shreds, Crypt Lords impaling people on spikes, necromancers grotesquely animating the skeletons from corpses. She turned and pulled her helmet off, her breathing increasing as she hunched over, quickly vomiting as she noticed the stench for the first time. She stumbled off to the side and held firm to the side of a post, tears streaming down her face. “I cant, I cant do it…” The once proud, cocky, military genius of a Man’ari stood shell-shocked and unable to do what she had done for 25,000 years. Her legs quaked as she glanced back up, slowly moving forward with another wave of troops, basically going through the motions.She charged in, instinct taking over as she slew a couple of Undead quickly. Quickly she caught up with one of her friends, feeling some confidence come back.

“Jen, quickly, we need to punch through”

Suddenly he lurched forward, blood dripping out of his mouth as he was violently yanked back into the range of a hulking Abomination. In one fel swoop its cleaver severed the Dwarf in half effortlessly. She felt her stomach tighten up as she crumpled, her breathing shallow and gasping for air. She never thought about the day she would die. All these years of her regenerating and coming back. If she were to fall, her spirit would return to Antorus and be tortured for all eternity. She started to panic, getting up and stumbling away from the Abomination. She had no clue where she was, where to go, or what to do. She hobbled around aimlessly before something knocked her to the side of her head, crashing down into a puddle. She felt her head ring as her eyes slowly closed, whimpering as she prepared for the blackness ahead of her gaze.


End file.
